


Tilted Trailer

by sorryuser



Category: Shadowhunters (TV) RPF
Genre: Angry Sex, Apologies, Blow Jobs, Choking, DONT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE IT, M/M, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Roughness, Shumdario, pissed off matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-04 08:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10272071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorryuser/pseuds/sorryuser
Summary: How Matt's trailer got tilted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like shumdario, then just don't read it.

Matt had been in an arguable mood all day. No one had ever seen him like it—he was the complete opposite of himself. He walked around set, feet stomping loudly and slamming every door he'd walk out of or in through. Everyone had asked if he was okay, though he would just completely ignore the question and his eyes would stay glued to his phone. At one point, Dom tried to talk to him, pulling him aside and asking what was wrong.

"It's none of your fucking business." He spat, pushing past Dom and stepping into his trailer. Dom raised his brows and stood frozen, the hand that was once on Matt's shoulder stayed in the air. Harry walked up to Dom and chuckled, flipping his car keys in his hand.

"I told you to start doing yoga." He joked, smile wavering as he caught Dom's serious face stay present. Dom drops his hand soon and sucks his teeth. Harry sticks his keys in his sweat pants pocket and crosses his arms in worry, "What's up?" He asks.

"Do you know what's wrong with Matt?" He gestures towards the trailer the man was currently in—most likely mumbling angrily to himself, "He's been in a pissy mood all day."

"No idea, I just got here." Harry replied, just as one of the set managers called for Dom to come to set. He smacks Harry on the back as he begins to walk away.

"Talk to him, I think you're the only one that can." Dom states as he jogs away.

Harry looks suspiciously at the trailer door as he steps up the small set of stairs. Hesitantly, he knocks on the door and waits for a reply—one doesn't come. He knocks again and there's a loud bang, followed by expressive footsteps. The door swings open and Harry finds himself stood in front of a very angry and fuming Matthew Daddario.

"What is it?" Matt says through gritted teeth, Harry can't help but notice his jaw clenching and the grip he has on the door.

"Can I come in?" Harry asks, his voice suddenly small and vulnerable. Matt breathes in deeply and rolls his eyes, stepping away from the door to let Harry in. He says nothing as Harry timidly steps inside, Matt shuts the door with a signature slam.

"Are you good?" Harry begins, watching as Matt rolls his eyes, "Everyone on set's been saying—"

"Why are you listening to everyone on set? I thought you were smarter than that." Matt utters bitterly, lounging on the couch in his trailer now.

"Are you calling me stupid? Listen, Matt." Harry spits his name, causing Matt to visibly flinch, "I'm just trying to be a good fucking friend. Now, I don't know what your problem is—"

"I don't have a fucking problem!" Matt exclaims, standing from the couch and backing Harry up against one of the counters, "I'm always so happy go lucky, but one day I'm pissed and suddenly I have a fucking problem."

"Matt, I didn't mean—" Harry tried.

"Shut your mouth, you always think you're right, but you're not." Matt's hand is suddenly on Harry's neck, just resting there and Harry tries to back up—an action that's an impossible task as the back of his head hits the cupboard now. Harry feels Matt's hand and he tentatively wraps a hand around his wrist. Matt's large hand covering his neck almost fully.

"What're you doing?" Harry asks, one of his thighs resting on the counter as his other leg keeps him stood upright. Matt squeezes his neck in experiment, Harry whimpers and Matt finds himself liking the sound.

"I think I know what I need." Matt states as he tilts his head, stretching his hand and lifting each finger before getting a tighter grip on Harry's neck. Matt pulls him forward—by the neck—taking him fully off the counter and pushes him back, Harry's ass now pressed tightly against it as he struggles on his toes to keep from getting chocked by Matt's hand.

Harry's afraid of two things at this point, asking what he needs and wondering why he likes this—why his cock is beginning to urge against his sweats as Matt's grip on his neck gets tighter, why he shivers as Matt's pupils dilate as he looks hungrily at Harry. Harry conquers one of his fears.

"What?" Harry asks, feeling Matt's hand leave his neck—finding himself missing the warmth. Then, Matt's hand grips his chin, pressing on each side of his mouth to force it open. Harry's cock jumps at the gesture, whimpering as one of Matt's long fingers slip into his mouth. He automatically closes around it, sucking it in slightly.

He hasn't done this in years, ever since college. But he can't lie and say he hasn't missed it—the feeling of possibly getting used for someone else's pleasure gives him butterflies in his stomach.

"Harry's a slut?" Matt coos, retreating his finger from Harry's mouth, "What else can that mouth do?" Matt asks, a blush occupies Harry's cheeks then. Matt steps away completely, Harry stumbling forward slightly and falling to his knees. He looks up at Matt with pleading eyes.  
  
Matt squats down to his level, pushing a finger up under Harry's chin and running his thumb over his bottom lip, "I'd like to fuck your face. Would you let me do that?" Matt asks, consent being his first priority, and Harry nods almost automatically.

Matt smiles at him with his signature tilted smile as he stands again, beginning to unbuckle his belt. And Harry's mind runs—this is real, this is something he's gotten into, this is something he wants to do. Maybe it's even something he'd been needing. He's brought back by Matt's cock pressing against his lips, intruding his mouth.

Harry's hands fly up to Matt's hips, pushing him back slightly as he chokes. Matt takes the hint and pulls out, pushing back in when Harry sets his head back against the counter rim and opens his mouth, tongue hanging out.

Matt pushes in, his thick cock hitting the back of Harry's throat roughly. But, Harry knows how to control his gag reflex. He pulls Matt in deeper until his balls knock against his chin, looking up and realizing Matt's staring right back down at him—most likely getting off while watching his cock disappear into Harry's mouth. Then, he thrusts in abruptly taking Harry off guard and he pushes on Matt's hips.

His vision begins to go blurry, as he tears up and begins to lose breath quickly, struggling to breathe. His cock leaks at the excitement and he almost comes when Matt pulls out, a long line of spit coming off Matt's cock and snapping against Harry's chin—making him look fucked out, which he was. Harry erupts into a fit of coughs, as he hunches over and rests his forehead against Matt's thigh.

"Harry, are you alright?" Matt asks, voice written with concern, and this is the Matt Harry knows. The caring and lovable Matt Harry sees on set everydayz

"Yeah, yeah." Harry murmurs, voice completely wreaked as his head falls back. As he opens his eyes the sight above him gives him butterflies. The way Matt's looking down, how concerned he looked yet still having his cock in hand took control over Harry.

He pushes Matt, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the couch, and settles between his legs. Harry's arms set on either side of Matt's hips as his mouth engulfs his cock again. Matt gasps loudly, sucking in a tight breath. Harry takes one of his hands—one of his large sinful hands—and brings it up to his hair, urging Matt to push him down or pull him back.

This happens for several minutes—minutes of Harry being chocked or Matt pulling him completely off his cock to watch his fucked out face and the way his mouth hung open, "I wanna fuck you, can I fuck you?" Matt asked when he pulled Harry off his cock, loosening his grip just enough for Harry to answer.

Harry nods, almost too eagerly.

Harry only has time to pull one leg out of his sweats before Matt is pressing up against him—pushing him onto the counter, the cold surface stinging his ass. His arms grip around Harry's thighs as he pulls him to the edge. His cock now settles against Harry's tight hole, one that hasn't been prepped in years—one that hasn't been fucked in years. Matt sets his arms under Harry's legs, holding them up as he uses a hand to lube up his fingers.

He pushes a finger into Harry's hole, watching as Harry balls a fist into his own shirt. He breathes in deeply as Matt adds another finger, pushing in rougher and without much thought, "M—Matt.." Harry buries his face into Matt's shoulder, words not being able to form. He hits Matt's bicep, quite hard, out of pain and payback.

"Do you want me to stop?" Matt asks as Harry's hits come to a stop.

"If this makes you feel better then keep going." Harry mumbles, suddenly being overwhelmed by the feeling of emptiness as his hole clenches around nothing. He notices now that his sentence may have urged Matt to stop, "That didn't mean sto—oh my god." His eyes shut tightly—almost impossibly tight. He hasn't felt this much pain in years. The stretch and the intrusion, the swelling of his hole making it harder for Matt to push in. He's hyperventilating now, the feeling of pain and pleasure overwhelming him.

His shirt feels tighter now as he pulls at the collar, relieving some constriction from his neck. His hands then ball on Matt's chest, pulling him close and kissing him harshly. His tongue explores every bit of Matt's mouth, accidentally biting his bottom lip as he pulls away and knocks his head back. Matt bottoms out soon and the burn overwhelms Harry.

"Please don't come inside me." He pleads, "I can't be walking around set with come dripping from my ass. God, Matt, you're so big, it hurts." He hits Matt's chest—softly—repeatedly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take this out on you, this isn't your fault." Matt replies, his heart aching, trying to hide how turned on he is from seeing Harry like this.

Harry's finger presses against his lips, "Just promise you'll pull out." He asks, and Matt nods then immediately knocks the breath out of Harry. Matt brings his hips back, and pushes them forward more forcibly, his hand gripping Harry's chin again. Harry keens, full of pain with hints of pleasure, "S—Slow." As he grips at Matt's wrist.

"I got you." Matt mumbles connecting their lips again. He pushes in unbearably slower, "You're doing so well, Harry."

Harry admires the praise—admires the pleasurable thrusts Matt was giving him—his fingers tenderly stroking Matt's wrist. He pulls Matt's hand back and off his chin bringing two of his finger into his mouth—giving him a sort of comfort. He bites down abruptly when Matt hits his prostate, shivering as goosebumps overtake his body. He hasn't felt this in years.

"There, there, there." Harry chants with every one of Matt's thrusts, Matt's fingers pushing against his tongue. Matt uses his thumb to push Harry's jaw up—shutting it, pushing his fingers up against Harry's cheek as his thrusts get unbearably rougher.

The sound of skin connecting with skin echoes through the small trailer, no doubt audible to neighboring trailers. Harry's legs come up higher, his feet now rested on the counter. Being a dancer comes with its perks—one of them being flexibility. Harry's sweats finally fall from around his ankle and he's left with a now very constricting shirt with many wrinkles due to how many times he's pulled on it.

This makes the angle raw—makes Harry shiver and pull at Matt, makes Matt's fingers go deeper into his throat and he takes it. He takes all of it. Matt's cock feels bigger—thicker inside of him, almost unbearably thick. Harry whimpers around Matt's fingers as Matt's thrust slow to almost a halt, a hand gripping the back Harry's thigh to push it further—Harry takes the hint and spread's them wider.

"You're so pretty." Matt mumbles against his forehead, his thrusts slow and smooth and Harry really needs more if he's gonna come, "So pretty for me." He praises as he pushes a strand of hair from Harry's sweaty forehead, his fingers slipping from Harry's mouth and the sight is sinful.

Harry's breathing heavily as his cheeks tint pink, his hole clenches around Matt's cock, and his hand searches for Matt's as he squeezes it tightly, "I'm gonna come." Harry whispers, knocking his head back and coming untouched with a hushed whimper—this being the first time he's ever done something so obscene—white streaks coating his shirt—his only shirt. He feels Matt jerk, a sure sign that he's about to come.

Harry's next action isn't justified. He takes Matt's hips and pulls him forward, deep inside himself, he keeps Matt there as he comes. Hands straining the edge of the counter as he holds on for dear life—the cheap wallpaper ripping under his tight grip. His come paints the inside of Harry, filling him up—making him feel dirty. Harry shivers, whimpering as Matt huddles over him, resting his forehead against the cabinet next to Harry's head.

They breathe heavily, Matt softening inside of Harry as he rides out his orgasm with small jerks. Warm breath tickling Harry's ear as Harry's head rests against Matt's, Harry's forehead on his temple.

"I thought you wanted—" Matt began when his breathing settled, turning his head towards Harry's.

"Shut up." Harry mumbles, voice sounding broken and wreaked, before kissing Matt again. Matt's tongue wreaks him—throws him off, to the point where he doesn't feel Matt pull out but when Matt replaces his cock with his fingers. He pulls away from the kiss to cry out, causing Matt to cover his mouth with his unoccupied hand, kissing up Harry's neck and the side of his jaw.

Harry's soon up and running again, the wet noises making his cock hard once again. He ends up pulling Matt closer and pulling his hands from over his mouth, Matt's fingers working deeper into Harry as he moves them roughly and skillfully, "Matt, please." Harry begs, he feels numb and overstimulated.

"Please, what?" Matt taunts, his own cock jumping and pressing against the inside of Harry thigh.

They're so close, breathing in each other's air and kissing when their faces line up. Harry almost forgets where they are—key word being almost. A loud knock sounds at the door immediately after Matt grazes his prostate with his long fingers, causing Harry to moan out loudly and highly.

"Yes?" Matt calls out, turning his neck to look towards the door. Harry watches the veins strain on his neck, trying his best to keep quiet as Matt's fingers work teasingly slow. He tries his best to stop the movement of Matt's wrist by pulling his fingers out but Matt looks back at him with a challenging look in his eye. Matt pushes against Harry's grip and this throws Harry off, he loses his grip and Matt's fingers are sent flying deeper into him. He cries out silently, biting Matt's shoulder and cutting himself off.

"You're needed on set in 10 minutes, Matt." The voice said, quick and obviously wanting to leave.

"Matt, I—I can't take it." Harry pleads, a breathless cry leaving his throat.

"You're taking it just fine from my point of view." Matt answers, stroking his own cock again, pre-cum spilling from the slit, "You think he heard?" Matt asked—though he already knew the answer to that question. Bystanders walking past Matt's trailer could possibly see it shaking or hear Harry moaning.

Matt pushing the tip of his cock in next to his fingers—testing it—but Harry immediately pushes him slightly, hands on his chest balling into fists.

"Don't you dare." Harry warns as seriously as he can without looking like a complete wreck, "Either your cock or your fingers, i'll die if you do both." Matt chuckles and gets in his space again, lining up his cock with Harry's empty hole.

"You sure? I'm gonna be rough, we've only got 10 minutes." Matt hums against Harry's temple as he begins to sink his cock into Harry's hole before he can even get a syllable out.

Harry's gripping Matt's shoulders for dear life, kissing him roughly and fiercely. He shuts his eyes tightly, the feeling being overwhelming. He barely has any time to breathe before Matt's pulling out and slamming back in—this motion being repeated several times. He doesn't know how Matt has so much energy and he certainly didn't know he could come twice in one hour.

He's cursing now, "Fuck you, oh my god, screw you, Daddario." The grip on Matt's bicep gets tighter as Matt continually hits his sweet spot, "God, yes, Matt. Fuck me, please." He's praising Matt now, mixed emotions pushing him. His voice gets higher and more breathy as he begins to shake, a second round of come coating his already stained shirt.

Matt doesn't hesitate, thrusting one last time into Harry before coming inside of him. He swears at himself.

"I meant to pull out." He mumbles through heaved breaths, "Sorry." Harry shakes his head and waves his hand.

"The damage is already done, literally." Harry hisses as Matt pulls out, come immediately seeping out of Harry's used—and abused—hole, "I really don't think I can walk." He brings his fingers down to his hole, flinching then brings his shirt lower to cover it—as if to shield it from Matt's heavy gaze.

"You have to go to set, I can take care of myself." Harry mumbles, urging Matt to go on.

"I'm sorry." Matt repeats, stuffing himself back into his jeans and leaving the trailer in a hurry.

Harry breaths in deeply—thinking about what the fuck he just did.

Matt jogs onto set with a sly smile on his face, Dom immediately pulls him away, "You look happy. Who was in you trailer, dude? Everyone heard." He gives Matt a proud smile.

"No one that you know." Matt replies, poking at Dom's chest tauntingly, "Lets get this scene done."

Dom gives him a surprised look, "Oh? Not done yet, are you?" He jokes, Matt just laughs and shrugs an arm around Dom. He pulls them to the makeup room as Dom smothers him in questions.

Questions that Matt just smiles at.


	2. Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of the last chapter.  
> warning: shumdario ⚠️

The following week, Harry escapes to his trailer whenever he's not needed on set. As soon as someone tells them they have a break he's walking away quickly—before Matt can even pull him aside, before Matt can ever pull him aside. At one point, Matt succeeds. He pulls Harry in front of the small snack table and watches Harry's heavy gaze.

"What's your problem?" Matt asks.

"Funny how it's your turn to ask me that now." Harry responds, chuckling dryly. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Matt, unable to look away from his eyes—his eyes that looked at Harry with such hunger and want and need. He shakes his head from those thoughts.

"Seriously, Harry. What's up?" Matt's sincerely worried, he rests a hand on Harry's arm in reassurance but Harry finds himself wanting more—wanting Matt's hand to tighten around his arm, wants him to drag Harry to his trailer and to fuck him over any and every surface, to use him like he did not too long ago, "Is it about us? What we did?" His voice lowers.

He shrugs away from Matt's grasp, the loss of warmth making him ache as he sighs, "As far as I know, we didn't do anything, okay? There's just a lot going on in my head." He turns and walks away before Matt can stop him. Their lunch break had started and Harry needed some time to himself.

As he lounged on his couch, a loud knock startled him—almost to the point where he fell off said couch. He stood hesitantly and opened it, only to be met with Matt's worried face, "Can I come in?" He asks and Harry laughs.

"This feels strangely like déjà vu." Harry says as he steps away from the door and leans against the counter in his trailer—a counter which could be the stage for certain acts. He crosses his arms over his chest in a soft manner, "I don't regret what happened between us, by the way." Harry reassures as Matt moves to stand in front of him—a friendly distance away.

"I don't either." Matt replies, a smile taking over his face. Then, his smile waivers as he takes a tentative step forward, "Do you think," He trails off as he begins to invade Harry's space until he's pressed up against the counter again and this is all just too familiar, "we could do it again?"

"Is that a good idea?" Harry questions—more to himself than to Matt.

"Not at all." Matt replies.

Harry then launches himself at Matt, lips locking in pure want and rush. Harry's hands cup at Matt's neck, pulling him deeper and pressing up against him. This is wrong—Harry's married and Matt's soon to be engaged but as their lips fought they couldn't find it in themselves to care.

Matt had grown out his stubble due to some scenes they were shooting, while Harry had shaved his. The rough hair rubbing against Harry's neck as Matt kissed down it, "Couch?" Matt asked against Harry's throat, warm breath tingling over his skin.

"In a second." Harry replied as Matt began to unbuckle his jeans, pushing them—along with his boxers—down, then pulls Harry's shirt over his head. As soon as Harry steps out of his jeans—now pooling at his ankles—Matt doesn't miss a beat and kicks them away.

"I wanna try something." Matt says, pulling away to get some sort of consent from Harry—who just narrows his eyes and nods. Matt smiles then turns Harry abruptly, pushing his torso down onto the counters cold surface. Large and warm hands cup his ass, pulling at the cheeks—making Harry blush—and feeling Matt's breath again his hole.

Matt licks a long stripe across Harry's hole, his tongue dipping ever so slightly into it. His hands run up Harry's back and down his sides as his tongue finally enters Harry. Matt can feel him shiver—feels the hairs on his skin rise with pleasure. He then grips both of Harry's wrists, bringing them together and holding them with one of his hands against his back.

Harry pulls against Matt's tight hold, longing to run his fingers through Matt's unkempt hair—and maybe even push his tongue in deeper. Harry's overcome with that familiar overwhelming feeling again—the same one that warns him that he's about to come, "Matt, Matt." Harry warns breathlessly, kicking his foot back and tapping—what he would presume was—Matt's chest, "I'm gonna come if you don't stop." He stretches his fingers to grab at Matt's wrist—gripping the hand that's holding Harry's hands captive.

Matt begins to kiss up Harry's back—a stern hand on the front of his neck guiding him to an upright position—stopping at his shoulder to suck a purple bruise there. As he sucks at Harry's neck he asks, "Still think we can make it to the couch?" He smiles wickedly against Harry's neck, licking over each newly formed hickey. At this point, Harry is completely naked while Matt is fully clothed, yet Harry can still feel his covered cock strain against his jeans.

As Matt begins the unbuckle his jeans, Harry pushes his ass back—stopping Matt's movements, "Couch." He said, causing Matt to wrap an arm around his waist and turn him. Their noses bump just before Matt begins to walk them forward, Harry falling onto the large couch as Matt settles between his spread legs.

Matt resumes unbuckling his jeans—one hand still holding him up—pulling them down just under his hips, enough to pull his cock free, pumping it as his lips find Harry's and Harry's hands find Matt's cheeks. Matt pulls away first, pressing his forehead against Harry's.

"Last time," He begins, wrapping his hand around Harry's neglected cock too, "I was rough with you. I fucked you out of anger and stress and you just took it." Matt explains his eyes shifting down to watch Harry's chest movement quicken, "Because you liked it, didn't you?" He asks, Harry nodding quickly leaning his forehead up and into Matt's.

"Yes, yes, yes." Harry replies, chanting along with the growing speed of Matt's hand on their cocks—pre-come mixing together and causing an easier glide of his hand. He releases their cocks, trailing a finger down to Harry's hole and pushes inside, following Harry's face and body as he arches his back in pleasure.

His eyes follow every part of Harry's body as he adds another finger—his expression, the way his hands gripped the couch, how his arms reached for Matt, pulling him close and breathing him in—desperate for something Matt wasn't giving him.

Matt pushes in a third finger, roughly and urgently, "I promise to pull out this time, well, i'll try." Matt comments, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead as he's pulled down by Harry's fists balled in his shirt. He pulls his fingers out suddenly, soon his cock begins to sink into Harry—and it's slow, and it's painful, and Harry finds himself needing more.

He searches for Matt's hand—leaving one to hold him up—and brings it to his neck, he tightens Matt's grip there with his own, a way of telling him what he needs. Matt obliges, stretching his hand over Harry's throat—pressing down on his adams apple with his thumb. His thrusts get faster as Harry's moans—turning into whimpers—get louder, more cut off with the pressure from Matt's hand on his neck.

"Harder, please, harder." Harry pleads as Matt angles himself to graze over Harry's prostate, teasing him, "I need more." He cups Matt's neck, bringing him down to press their foreheads together again. Matt loses his hold on Harry's neck and moves down closer, settling himself on his elbows—boxing in Harry's face. He uses his elbows to push on Harry's shoulders, timing him with his thrusts.

"Like that?" Matt asks, pressing deeper into Harry now, settling his hips, "Does that feel good?" He's whispering into Harry's ear now—pushing him and teasing him. He moves a hand between them, grabbing hold of Harry's cock and stroking it to the rhythm of his thrusts.

"This has to be the last time we do this." Harry mumbles as he shivers, "This isn't right, Matt." His breathing gets heavier.

"Of course it isn't right." Matt releases Harry's cock, lifting himself into an upright position, "Yet I couldn't help but think of you every night for the past week. How you feel under my touch, your moans, your whimpers, your cries." His hands grip around Harry's hips as he pulls out—urging him to flip over, something that Harry obliges to quickly.

As Harry lays on his stomach, Matt enters him again, this angle letting him go deeper and abuse Harry's prostate. Matt pushes a hand under Harry and pulls him up on his knees—pushing his torso down and his ass up. His hands grip harshly at Harry's hips—an indentation that Matt was going to come soon.

Matt isn't great at keeping promises.

His come fills Harry to the brim as he draws out a long curse. Falling forward, he covers Harry's back, reaching under him again to stroke him to his climax—running his finger over the tip, smearing his pre-come down his shaft. Harry pushes back onto Matt's cock, bringing himself up and pressing his back against Matt's chest.

His hand encloses around Matt's, slowing down his rhythm, "I thought you said you were gonna pull out." Harry said, his hips wiggling back against Matt.

"I said i'd try." Matt mumbled, lips traveling to his shoulder as he slowly pulls out—just as Harry comes, coating both of their hands in white streaks.

Harry's grip on Matt's hand travels down to his Matt's wrist, bring Matt's hand up to his mouth, licking the come off his fingers, and it's dirty and obscene and not at all something Matt thought Harry would do.

Matt pushes Harry back down to his recent position as he shifts lower down the sofa. Harry's breath hitches as Matt spreads his cheeks, licking a growing line of come seeping from his hole. He trails over it, teasingly, and dips is tongue inside.

"We need to be on set, Matt." Harry's voice waivers and warns but his legs spread wider.

Matt pulls away to say, "I'm just helping." and he disappears behind Harry again, licks rougher as he leads them up his back and stops at his shoulder, "Okay, I'll leave you be." He slaps Harry's ass softly as he kisses the side of his neck before standing—making himself look decent and not like he just fucked Harry into oblivion, again, "Wanna walk to set together? I can stay here until you're ready." Matt asks.

Harry just nods, finding his shirt and covering himself.

As they walk to set together they joke, they smile, and they act as friends. Friends that just have some benefits between them.


End file.
